


Against All Odds

by mandyrosask



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post S4 Finale, RH turned out to be in it more than I expected?, Snow is in it quite a bit, Swan Queen - Freeform, You've been warned, again being a whiny baby, also Hook has like 1 scene, and slightly more badass than her canon self, because I miss EF Snow from s1, mostly whining, this is an angst fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandyrosask/pseuds/mandyrosask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina ponders over Emma's sacrifice, and remembers the past fondly (and with lots of angst; hindsight is 20/20 after all).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How can I just let you walk away?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really long song fic. The way it's going to work is, every 1-4 lines of the song will signal a new scene, so I'll put it in different chapters, to make it easier and less complicated. So, yes, the chapters will be quite short in and of themselves.  
> The story is based off Phil Collins' 'Against All Odds (Take a Look at me Now)'. I initially wanted to do a SQ video to it (and I probably still will, once s5 is out, because feels), but I also wanted to use s5 scenes for the video, so that's going to have to be shelved for now. The song got under my skin though, and I just had to do something about it, so this happened.

_How can I just let you walk away?_

“Emma! NO!” She watched as the blonde screeched to a halt in front of her, green eyes pleading with her to understand, to let her do this. But she wouldn’t allow it. “There has to be another way.” She meant to lace her words with anger and venom, to make it clear beyond all doubt to the stubborn blonde that she was not to go through with her idiotic plan. But the pain, oh the pain. It stole her breath, and turned what was meant to be an order into a plea.

Emma shook her head vigorously. “There isn’t. You fought too hard to have your happiness destroyed.”

And of course, _of course_ the pigheaded blonde was doing this for her. Because she just didn’t know when to quit; Emma had a saviour’s complex a mile wide — partly her fault for literally making her the Saviour, she admitted to herself — and Regina knew that she’d go through with this. She knew because, looking into the teary green eyes in front of her, she knew that, had their roles been reversed, she would have done the exact same thing.

Emma made to throw her hand upwards, but Snow screamed, startling Regina. She had forgotten there were other people there. _Good_ , she thought, chest relaxing as Emma turned towards her parents. Regina could see both parties were speaking, could see their mouths moving, but the howl of the wind, and the pain slicing through her body, tearing her apart and putting her back together again, meant she didn’t know what was being said. _Maybe Snow can convince her daughter out of this harebrained plan of hers_.

But then panic seized her again, as Emma turned back to her, eyes even more determined, and she mused at the incompetence of Snow White even now, when it mattered most. She wanted to speak again, to demand that Emma back down, let her take this, let her be taken by it, but then the pirate stepped forward.

And again, Regina felt sure that he would be able to dissuade the blonde. She remembered Emma telling her the shock of seeing him die in the Author’s universe, and felt the beginning of a weak smile stretch over her pained lips. Hook would stop Emma, because she had just gone through the pain of losing him, and surely would not want to go through it again, not when there was an alternative.

The pirate ran forward, making to grab Emma, but to Regina’s disbelief, the blonde pressed her hands to his chest, not embracing him. Her forehead pressed against his, and Regina thought she heard a whisper of _I love you_ , before the blonde pushed the pirate back and, before she could even open her mouth, thrust her arm up, towards her.

The dagger connected with the darkness, and instantly something shifted. There was an explosion in the black matter, and Emma staggered, still coming towards her, and she wanted to hold out a hand to steady her. But as she moved to do just that, the agonising pain started receding, first from her feet, then her legs, her thighs, her stomach, arms and finally her head. It pushed her away, flung to the side in disinterest, and Regina watched in abject horror as the darkness coiled slowly, sliding down Emma’s outstretched arm, twining around her torso, and enveloping her whole, so that soon she was hidden from sight; the brunette could still hear the pained gasps coming from the whirling mass, and stood there in confusion and fear, staring, disbelieving, at what was happening in front of her.


	2. Just let you leave without a trace

_Just let you leave without a trace?_

As the dagger clattered to the floor, Regina felt her knees buckle under her.

Robin’s arms, too heavy and constricting, could no longer hold her, and she collapsed in a heap on the hard, cold surface of the road, eyes staring unseeingly at where Emma had stood, eyes alight with defiance, a whispered word on her lips —

 _goodbye_.

 _How dare she_.

Regina seethed, instantly falling back into the comfort and acceptance of her old friend, anger. How dare she presume to know what would make Regina happy. How dare she do such a stupid, idiotic, selfish, horrible thing? She drew in a shuddering breath then, the anger leaving just as fast as it had arrived, leaving her hollow and empty, staring at the dagger, that hateful piece of metal, lying innocently in the middle of the road, her name engraved on it, as if it hadn’t just taken away the only good, the only light she’d had in her life since she had first held Henry.

She closed her eyes, fingers wrapping around the dagger tightly, as a flood of memories assaulted her.


	3. I stand here taking every breath with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going into the past now :)

_When I stand here taking every breath_

_With you —_

The sun had been shining the day she almost kissed Emma Swan.

She remembered looking at the aggravating blonde, anger, fear and desire swirling in her stomach. She expected the woman to keep on shouting, to continue blaming her; that’s what everyone did, after all. It was always her fault, even when it wasn’t.

And that day, part of her relished the accusations she couldn’t help but agree with. If she had just told Henry the truth, he wouldn’t have needed to run off into the mines, looking for proof.

Instead, the Saviour had taken a deep breath, and agreed with her. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, voice soft, eyes sympathetic and understanding.

“Help me,” Regina whispered. She never showed weakness, not ever. But she had never had anyone in her corner either, and maybe things could be different if she had a… _friend_.

When bombing the place didn’t work, the panic started rising again, but Emma kept calm.

“He’s my son, too.” And she supposed that he was.

Hearing it said out loud, hearing the unspoken acknowledgment that he was both their son, coupled with the sun and the fear must have short-circuited her brain, because the next thing she knew, she was taking a step forward, into Emma’s personal space. The blonde didn’t step back, and Regina caught herself looking at plump lips, just centimetres out of reach, and maybe if she just — Graham shifted in her periphery, snapping her back to the situation at hand, so she took a deep breath, telling herself that kissing the Saviour was a terrible idea, no matter how the sun shone off her hair, making it seem like she had a halo.

Still, she didn’t step back, waited until Emma smiled at her shyly and put some space between them, before turning around and taking a deep breath.


	4. You're the only one who really knew me at all

_You’re the only one who really knew me at all_

Robin moved out three days later.

He hadn’t screamed at her, not really, but she knew he was upset. Not that she could blame him, she knew she was obsessing.

The night Emma had sacrificed herself, she had poofed herself and the dagger home, heedless of anyone else. The next morning, when she woke up, there was a red leather jacket hanging off one of the kitchen chairs. It hadn’t been there before, but she didn’t question it.

Robin did, when he saw her wearing it. When she refused to talk to him — guilt eating her up from the inside, because Emma had given up everything for them, and now she couldn’t even look him in the eye, couldn’t see him without blaming him for taking Emma away, and she knew it wasn’t rational, that it made no sense, but still she would not speak.

He didn’t understand her, of course he didn’t. He never had, not really. Things had happened to so fast between them, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just a foolish hope. She should have known better than to let herself be forced into yet another relationship with a man who didn’t know her.

“Regina, You’ve been obsessed.” Had been his accusation, and she had wanted to scream at him, _of course I am, she’s Emma, she knows, she understands_. But she hadn’t. Hand’t said a word, because even then, even when saying goodbye, she didn’t want him to see her like that. She snorted in disgust.

And maybe it wasn’t healthy, this level of worry, but she couldn’t help but see, in her mind’s eye, a dingy interrogation room, years ago.

* * *

 

She knew Snow was standing on the other side of the one-way mirror, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Charming was in the room too, and she was certain they’d hang her just on the basis that she had argued with the bug. And perhaps in the past they would have been right to, but it hadn’t been her this time.

As she pleaded her case, Emma cocked her head to one side, eyes glued on her, evaluating, and she stepped forward. Regina didn’t dare breathe, lest it convince the blonde that she was guilty. Instead, Emma sat on the desk in front of her, giving her a chance to explain, to convince her, and the Mayor could have cried (except no, she had already shown weakness in front of Emma Swan too many times, and really this had to stop, so she leant forward, speaking earnestly), willing with all her might for the Saviour to see, to believe in what she was telling her.

She didn’t know what to think when father and daughter walked out of the room, but left her there, so she hugged herself, refusing to show vulnerability in front of Snow White.

She didn’t know if Emma had believed her, didn’t know what would happen next, but was convinced they’d lock her up. She couldn’t blame them, not really.

Then the blonde walked in, sans parents, and smiled at her warmly. “Sorry about that. They mean well, they’re just…”

“Wrong.”

Emma grinned at her again, but sighed. “Heavily biased.”

Neither said anything as the Sheriff stood by the door, keeping it open. Finally, she shook her head. “Do you _want_ to stay here?”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“Regina,” Emma sighed. “I'm not just holding the door open for fun. You’re free to go. I’m sorry we interrupted your day unnecessarily.”

And as she walked out, she couldn’t bring herself to snark back, too shocked that, after everything she had done and tried to do, both to herself personally, and to her family, Emma had believed in her.


	5. All I can do is watch you leave

_How can you just walk away from me?_

_When all I can do is watch you leave?_

She wonders and she worries.

And she wonders some more, because how could Emma do this? Why would she think it was a good idea? Of all the moments for Emma’s Charming gene to kick in, why did she have to pick the one time where Regina physically could not stop her, could not save her from her own stupidity?

No, she barged ahead, with no thought for the consequence of her actions — as usual — and forced Regina to watch as she threw away her life; left Regina behind, wondering, worrying and obsessing.

Henry hadn’t taken it well, especially at first.

She had dreaded that conversation, hating to be purveyor of such news, but also knowing someone had to tell him, and she’d rather he find out by her than by someone else.

He hadn’t blamed her, like she'd feared (and expected, if she was honest with herself, because part of her blamed herself, and how could he not, when Emma had sacrificed herself for Regina? It was her fault).

But she knew she hadn’t imagined the reserve with which he approached her for that first day, the disappointment in his eyes that was almost worse than any accusation he could have flung her way.

That same night, though, he had woken up in the middle of the night, panting from a nightmare where his birth mother set fire to the town and laughed in glee over the flames. He’d gone downstairs to get some water, and heard her in her study.

She hadn’t even noticed him walk in at first. She’d been curled up on the floor, one hand clutching the dagger, the other holding on to the damned leather jacket, her tears staining the wooden floor.

It was only when she heard Henry sigh “Mom” in a voice breaking with his own tears that she realised she wasn’t alone. She couldn’t stop the flow of salted water from her eyes, and turned to look at him standing in the doorway.

He’d rushed to her side, kneeling beside her, arms going around her instantly as they both sank to the ground, sobbing over the blonde idiot.

“Why did she do this to us?” she whispered, words muffled in her son’s shoulder.

He shook his head sadly. “She thought she was saving us. It’s what she does.”

He didn’t seem disappointed the next morning, when they both woke up on the sofa in the study, Henry curled into a little ball with Emma’s jacket and the dagger encircled protectively in his arms, and his mother nestled behind him, one arm flung over both him and the only things they had of his other mother; after that, he was just sad.

They were just sad together.


	6. We've shared the laughter and the pain

_Cause we’ve shared the laughter and the pain_

_And even shared the tears_

She tries to go back to work, she really does.

Snow stops by every other hour, allegedly to make sure she’s okay, especially once Robin Hood leaves, but Regina knows the real reason. Snow doesn’t want to be alone, can’t face the silence. She’s probably also aware that, since Regina has the dagger, if Emma were to appear, it’s likely it would be to Regina first. So she keeps on showing up.

The first day she did, on her fifth visit of the day, she’d brought lunch with her — kale salad. Regina had taken one look at the salad, neatly packaged in a plastic container, and started screaming at Snow.

The confused woman had beat a hasty retreat, unsure what she had done wrong this time. She’d shown up an hour later with root beers as peace offerings, and this time Regina couldn’t summon the anger.

To her horror, she’d felt her eyes well up, and within seconds, had tears streaming dow her face yet again. Snow hadn’t brought anything else with her after that.

But for the rest of the day, Regina was a mess, unable to focus properly, unable to stand being in her office, where everywhere she looked, it seemed an echo of Emma stood, taunting her with the past.

* * *

 

“How do you feel about kale salad?”

The blonde sounded too smug, and really, the very fact that she felt comfortable enough to walk in without knocking was enough to convince Regina not to encourage her smugness any further, so she didn’t raise her eyes as she answered.

“Like someone found some place other than Granny’s for takeout.”

She could hear the smile in the other woman’s voice. “I’m fine with her grilled cheese, but I know it gets to you.”

She couldn’t resist looking up then, rolling her eyes with a smile. “You eat like a child.”

They’d had this talk countless of times over the past few months, with Emma insisting that the calories she ate didn’t really count, since she’d just sweat them out anyway when she went on her daily run. Silently, Regina agreed with the blonde; she certainly seemed to have no trouble keeping a perfect figure, but the Mayor would rather chop off an arm than admit that to the insufferable woman. As she laughed at Emma’s exasperated face, her eyes fell on the bottles under her arms.

“Is that… a root beer?”

“Two. I got you one. Thought you could use a break.”

And just like that, they were back to talking about Robin Hood.

Emma had been the only one who had cared enough to ask, and keep at it. The only one Regina had been willing to show weakness in front of, over and over again, as they pored over the book together. With Emma, there was never any pressure to be perfect, to be the Queen; the blonde never judged her for showing weakness, and showed no intentions of exploiting said weaknesses. Many days had ended with them drinking — either in the town hall, or in Regina’s house — and talking about their pasts. She had been curious about Emma’s life before Storybrooke, desperate for any kind of distraction from her own pain. In the end though, most nights had found them both crying silently over things that were no more. It had felt good to have someone to talk to, someone who she could share her grief with, and know that she wouldn’t be pitied for it.


	7. Nothing left here to remind me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is wholly unedited, so please forgive any mistakes.

_You’re the only one who really knew me at all_

_So take a look at me now_

_There’s just an empty space_

_And there’s nothing left here to remind me_

_Just the memory of your face_

By the end of the week, Regina could almost feel herself slipping through the cracks that had become her life.

The entire town was in upheaval. Snow still hadn’t stopped her hourly visits and though she’d never brought anything with her again, they still grated on the mayor in ways that had less to do with their past, and more with the fact that they served as a constant reminder that Emma was still missing.

She was still crying herself to sleep at night, though she had placed the dagger in the safe and locked it with blood magic. Henry had taken to curling up in bed with her, and she couldn’t bring herself to send him back to his room; they both needed the reassurance of each other — that even though they’d lost so much, they still had something left, and they clung to each other desperately, as if terrified they’d lose that too.

Hook had come around on Friday, demanding that she use the dagger to summon Emma. She had nearly set him on fire, after telling him coldly that she would not hold control over Emma like that. At which point, the man had insinuated he would take the dagger from her and do it himself.

Though Regina had laughed, she’d had a fireball primed and ready to go if he so much as breathed another word to annoy her; she probably would have, too, if Snow hadn’t arrived for her hourly check-in and heard the pirate’s threat. Before Regina could blink, she had an unconscious pirate lying on her office floor, nose bloody, while Snow White stood over him, with an expression on her face that made Regina think perhaps all those years spent with her in the castle might have actually rubbed off on the princess. It was disconcerting thought to say the least.

That day, she’d gone home early. Much as she meant what she had told Hook, she also knew that something had to give and soon, or the entire town would descend into chaos. Still, the very thought of using the dagger on Emma, of calling her like she’s a dog, sickened her, and she knew that, no matter what state the town got in, she couldn't do it. Wouldn’t do it.

Henry found her hours later when he got back from school.

(And it was a sign of how wrong everything is, that she doesn’t even notice that he’s late. He had detention after school that day for punching a kid who said Emma was evil now and deserved to be "put down", as if she was some sort of rabid animal. The teachers hadn’t known what to do, and when Mary Margaret got wind of it, she’d had to lock herself in the bathroom so she didn’t try to suspend the other boy, and when she’d come out, she’d been met by sympathetic eyes from her peers, and had fled to Regina’s office again, once again thinking how lucky she was that the school was so close to the tow hall; not that anyone said anything when she was five minutes late to all her classes, because they all know where she goes, and frankly, they all hope that this time she’ll have good news when she comes back. She never does. So Henry got detention, as did the other boy, though the principal had wisely chosen to make them serve it separately. She’d also called both of the mothers, hesitating over Henry’s contact form, eyes snagging on the Sheriff’s name, before dialling the Mayor’s office, only to be told she was not in. The principal had wisely chosen not to call her cellphone, lingering fears over upsetting the Evil Queen during an emotionally trying time still present.)

When he walks in, she’s once again on the floor of her study. This time, her eyes are long dry, there’s a glass of whiskey on the floor next to her (and the decanter isn’t far from reach), and she’s surrounded by photo albums. They’re scattered all over the floor in a way that is shocking for the usually so organised Mayor, and Henry knows, deep down, that she’s hit breaking point.

She raises her eyes to look at him, and he almost wishes she’d cry again. Anything to erase the soul-deep agony that is in her eyes, the look of utter devastation and loss.

“Why isn’t she in any of them?” she whispers brokenly to him.

“Mom?” he asks, trying to gauge her emotions and understand what she’s talking about.

But Regina misunderstands, eyes falling back on the pictures surrounding her.

She nods faintly as though agreeing with him, her fingers skimming over the albums closest to her. “She’s nowhere. It’s like she was never even here. Why…”

He just shakes his head, unsure of what to say — or even if there is anything to say. That night, they sleep even worse than they have been for the past week, and when Regina finally does manage to succumb to slumber, she’s plagued by green eyes turned reptilian, and a kind smile turned cold.


	8. That's what I've got to face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, completely un-beta'd, so forgive any mistakes. I'm going to try to finish this by tonight, so bear with me.

_Well, take a look at me now_

_There’s just an empty space_

_And you coming back to me_

_Is against the odds, and that’s what I’ve got to face_

It was three weeks before Snow stopped her hourly visits.

Much as they annoyed her, Regina had grown used to them over the weeks, so she instantly noticed when Snow didn’t show up on Monday morning. She wondered whether she should call the woman to see if she was okay, but that would mean acknowledging the fact that she had noticed something different, and the thought of showing any kind of emotion towards Snow that wasn’t exasperation or anger, even after all this time, was still something she refused to do.

When she hadn’t shown up for the third hour consecutively, Regina started to worry. Surely if something had happened, Henry would have told her?

By lunch time, Regina was too anxious to sit still. She grabbed her handbag and stormed out of city hall, glaring at everyone she passed. When she walked in to Granny’s, however, she saw Snow sitting in a booth with David and the baby, both of them laughing at something. She frowned. She hadn’t seen either of them so much as smile in weeks. What was going on? She approached the table slowly, unsure.

“Regina! Hi!”

The woman’s happy face only confused the Mayor even more. “Are you okay, Snow?”

“Yes, of course!” The other woman smiled up at her, then blinked, apparently registering the confusion on Regina’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, nothing, I suppose. I just didn’t expect you two to be so happy while Emma is still missing.”

Snow blinked again, smile fading, as she looked from her husband to the woman standing in front of her and back again.

David shook his head in what looked like exasperation. “We told her.”

“Yes, but when has she ever listened to us, David? I mean, really?”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Regina interrupted.

“Emma came to talk to us last night,” Snow said, speaking quickly as though she needed to get it out at once. “Regina, she’s okay.”

Regina, who had felt all the blood leave her face at Snow’s first statement, felt it all rush back when her last words registered in her stunned mind. “Okay? Snow, she’s not _okay_. She’s the Dark One. Do you know how dangerous that makes her? She could have killed you!”

The woman looked away, mumbling something under her breath.

“What was that, dear?”

The schoolteacher took a deep breath. “She seemed fine. But we did tell her…”

“Tell her… what, exactly?”

Snow swallowed and looked to her husband for help. He sighed heavily.

“Regina, she wanted to see Henry. We told her that wasn’t a good idea, that she should see you first, talk it out…”

Regina had turned on her heel and left the diner before he could finish his sentence.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Emma. Although as the Dark One, she had the potential to be a huge threat, something the Mayor hadn’t let herself dwell on over the last three weeks. It hurt too much to imagine a world where Emma was her enemy again. But she knew the blonde woman too well. Even as the Dark One, she’d never want to endanger her family; she’d only visit them if she was sure she could control herself.

No, if she was being honest with herself (and as much as she might lie to others, and manipulate them, she knew she couldn’t lie to herself, not really), the reason why Emma’s surprise visit to the Charming’s had angered her so much was that she had truly believed for weeks now that, when Emma did finally surface from wherever she had gone, she would have gone to her first.

 _Stupid_ , she thought to herself, pacing around the foyer of her house. _When she has her parents, her son, why would I be more important than them?_ It had been a stupid idea, but Regina couldn’t quite shake the disappointment.

She was the one in possession of the dagger; she was the reason why Emma had sacrificed herself in the first place. Surely she mattered even a little bit to the other woman? _Or maybe she resents me, maybe she blames me for her being like this. And maybe she should._ Of course she wouldn’t have come to her. It had been a stupid idea, a pipe dream that could never have been real.

So she tried to put on a brave face for Henry. She told him of his birth mother's visit to his grandparents, saw the hope and happiness in his eyes again, and thought that, as long as she didn’t examine too deeply why it hurt so much that Emma hadn’t come to her first, maybe she’d be okay too.


	9. So much I need to say to you

_I wish I could just make you turn around,_

_Turn around and see me cry_

_There’s so much I need to say to you,_

_So many reasons why_

It didn’t take her very long to realise that Emma was actively avoiding her.

By the end of the week, she had been to visit everyone except her — literally everyone; Hook had trod into the diner Tuesday night and gone right to the bar, from whence he hadn’t budged for hours. David had been called at 3am to get him out of the establishment by a highly unimpressed Granny.

On Wednesday, Henry had come home from school, filled with excitement because Emma had been waiting to walk him home like she’d always done on Wednesdays. She had pressed for as much information as she possibly could without making her son suspicious, but all he had said was “she looks okay. Not really different, but not the same, you know? But she seemed happy, I guess”, before shovelling his peas into his mouth, and Regina didn’t have the heart to tell him to eat slowly; it had been nearly a month since her son had shown any kind of appetite, and besides, his enthusiasm over food reminded her of his birth mother (not that she’d ever admit to finding that an endearing trait).

After that, she thought the tales of Dark Emma Swan would stop, at least for a while, so she was shocked when he phone rang mid-Thursday afternoon to a panicked Robin Hood.

“Regina, you have to make her stop.”

“What? Robin? What are you talking about?”

“Emma. She paid me a visit today.”

“She did _what_?”

There was slight hesitation on the other end of the line, and it vaguely registered with Regina that she had used her most terrifying Queen voice, something she had never done around Robin before. She was too busy cursing Emma Swan and her childish avoidance in her mind, however, to find it in herself to care what Robin Hood thought of her.

“Regina, she threatened me.”

“Oh?”

“She just barged into camp and started screaming at me about making you happy, and I…”

At which point the Mayor had had enough, and with a clipped “Leave it to me,” hung up on the sound of Robin whining about how she needed to _do something_.

And she wanted to, she really did. Namely, she wanted to punch Emma in the face for sacrificing herself for Regina, and then studiously ignoring her while she made her way around town, terrorising Regina’s citizens. But it’s not like she could actually do that unless the infuriating blonde decided to grace her with her presence.

* * *

 

She considered everything. Even considered wheedling the Charmings or Henry into calling her next time Emma showed up, but discarded that almost instantly, not wanting to make Emma feel betrayed; the last thing she needed was a hurt, betrayed Dark One prowling around town.

Which left her with a Dark One that was not only acting like a child, but also seemed to have unresolved anger issues with Robin Hood.

She’d thought about what Robin had said all afternoon, about how Emma had yelled at him to make her happy. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, especially considering how the blonde refused to see her, apparently. She sighed. She had never pretended to understand the bizarre thoughts that went through Emma Swan’s mind, but now she was being even more strange than usual.

A large part of her found herself wishing that Emma would just show up, even if it was to yell at her. At least then she’d be able to yell back, to vent all the frustration, anger and confusion she had over the blonde’s sacrifice. At least then maybe she could try to explain, both to herself and to Emma, why it hurt so much to go weeks without seeing the other woman, worried over her.

It was that thought she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on before, but found she couldn’t escape ever since her conversation with Robin. Why did it matter so much that Emma had left her? That she hadn’t come to see her, when he had seen everyone else in town? And why, why had it filled her with a strange sort of vindictive, smug happiness, when she found out Emma had broke things off with her pirate, and that was why he had drunk Tuesday away?

She paused, her eyes settling on the red leather jacket she still wore. It was hanging off the back of her chair, where it always stayed while she was working, but she took a step away from the chair, and the jacket it held, as though it would bite her hand off.

No. It was a ridiculous notion. She knew better than to fall in love with a Charming.

 _Oh, god_. She bit back the sob threatening to escape her, because no, she was being ridiculous, and she really shouldn't cry over Emma Swan anymore than she already had. Still, that night, after Henry had gone to bed, she curled up on the sofa, a glass of apple cider in her hand that she never actually touched, because she knew that the very taste of it would be too much, would bring back too many memories of _you're Henry's birth mother?_ and _hi_ , and _got anything stronger?_

She sighed, curling up on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest and pulling the red leather jacket around herself.

_Emma, where are you?_


	10. To wait for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems I'm not finishing this tonight. I'll try to get some writing done on the train tomorrow, but no promises. Worst case scenario, expect something on Tuesday. Blame Lana and JMo if you have to ;)

_Now take a look at me now_

_Cause there’s just an empty space_

_But to wait for you_

_Is all I can do, and that’s what I’ve got to face_

_Take a good look at me now_

“Have you spoken to Ma yet?”

Regina tried her best not to react to her son’s question over breakfast on Friday. She forced a smile as she gave him his eggs — something he’d come back from New York with a big liking for; he’d never been much of a fan before — and sat down at the breakfast bar next to him.

“No, honey. She hasn’t come to see me yet.”

Henry tilted his head, fork paused mid-air as he looked at her. “Then why don’t you go see her?”

“How could I? I don’t know where she is.” She looked at him. “Henry. Do you know where she’s been staying?”

He shrugged. “Before she came back, no. But Mom, there’s only one place in town with beds available; it’s not like we have more than one bed & breakfast.”

Regina blinked at her son, trying to process this. “She’s staying at Granny’s?”

He levelled her a look that told her she really should have figured this out by now, shrugged and went back to his eggs. “Yeah. She didn’t want to stay with Mary Margaret.” He paused, looking panicked. “Don’t tell Grandma that, though, she thinks Emma’s staying here.”

At that, Regina’s own breakfast of non-fat yogurt went down the wrong way, and Henry had to wait until she’d spluttered the dairy product out of her respiratory system before asking her if she was okay.

“What? Why would she say that?” she asked, nodding to let him know she was fine.

He wrinkled his nose. “I thought you guys were friends now, I figured it’d be okay for her to say she was staying here.”

“Henry,” she rasped, her throat still a little sore from the unplanned encounter with yogurt. “How long has she been telling her mother she’s staying here?”

He shrugged again. “Since Wednesday, I guess. It’s when she talked to me and asked if it was alright for her to say that. Grandma thinks she’s been here all week. And so do Robin and Hook,” the boy added, seeming to remember something.

Regina just stared at him, mouth hanging open, and he seemed to take that as a request to elaborate.

“I guess Hook’s been bothering her since she broke up with him, he wanted to know if she was with someone else, and where she was staying. I guess Ma just told him she was staying here, but she said it quite loud and they were in Granny’s at dinner, and Robin was there. Ma says he looked even more in pain than he normally does.” He darted a look at his mother, seeming to remember the outlaw was her soul mate, but she was just staring at him, confused.

“How do you know all this? Did Emma tell you all this?”

The boy had the grace to look embarrassed. “Well, that last comment, yeah, but only because I asked her about everything else. Ava’s dad was in the diner that night, and she told me everything at school.”

Regina took a deep breath, shaking her head before going back to her breakfast.

“It’s okay that she’s saying that, right Mom? I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“Yes, Henry, it’s fine.”

 

And it was, of course. Though why Emma had chosen to go through their son to ask that made no sense, not when Regina was just down the road. The brunette pondered this as she ate, waving distractedly at Henry as he left for school.

* * *

 

She didn’t go into work that day. Instead, she fretted.

She now knew where Emma was staying, could finally go see the infuriating blonde and demand she stop scaring the daylights out of Robin Hood.

And yet…

Seeing her, especially now, after her epiphany the night before, would be torture. As the woman had yet to seek her out, Regina had to assume that her feelings were unrequited, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face that scenario head-on. Nevertheless, the desire to see the blonde with her own eyes was maddening; now that she had a way of contacting the other woman without using the dagger, she was sorely tempted to take it, to go to Granny’s and let the chips fall where they may.

She spent hours pottering around her tree in the garden. The sun was out, and it was really too warm for her to be wearing the red leather jacket, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it off. Even though it didn’t smell like Emma anymore, hadn’t done in weeks, it was also the only tangible proof she had that the blonde had spared even a thought for her since the whole ordeal four weeks ago.

So she spent the day outside, sweating more than she ever had before, but refusing to go back inside or take the damn thing off. And as she circled her tree for the thousandth time that day, looking for something she could do to keep her mind occupied, she replayed her conversation with Henry that morning in her mind. It wasn’t until she’d lost count of how many times she’d gone around the damn tree, only to find it was in perfect health (of course), and was slumped on the floor beneath it, head propped up on the trunk, that his greeting truly registered with her. _Have you spoken to Ma yet?_

She sat up suddenly. Not _has Ma come to visit you yet?_ Not any other variation of the question; he’d specifically asked her if _she_ had been to see _Emma_. What exactly had the blonde said to their son that made him think it had been up to her, not Emma, to make the first move? Especially when Emma had been hopping around town all week, visiting people?

The afternoon dragged.

She briefly considered pulling Henry out of school early, but knew that that was going too far, even for her level of obsessing. So she did what she did best: she baked. Apple turnovers, because she had half a mind to knock on Emma’s door at Granny’s and start spouting rubbish about apples and giving her badly hidden messages between the lines.

She did not, she told herself, pounding the pastry maybe a little too hard, spend the afternoon seeing Emma in a white tank top and bright red panties every time she closed her eyes.

Because that would be ridiculous. And Regina Mills did not pine. Not even for blonde Saviours.

* * *

 

 

She approached him almost the second he was through the door.

“How was school, dear?”

He shrugged, backpack in hand, looking at her weirdly. “It was fine. Emma walked me home again,” he added nonchalantly, and Regina had to stop herself from throwing the door open and running out to the road, to see if she could catch the blonde.

She reminded herself that begging for attention was not becoming of a queen, and she had to have poise and composure. She took a deep breath. “That’s nice, dear. I actually wanted to ask you about Emma. How is she?”

“She seemed better today. Happier. More like her old self.”

She nodded absently. “Good, good. That’s good.”

Henry was still looking at her weirdly, and she might have been mistaken, but was that the beginning of a smile on his face? He was trying to hide it, but she knew her son too well. She chalked it down to having Emma around again, and continued on with her train of thought.

“What did you two talk about?”

He didn’t answer at first, moving towards the stairs slowly. “About you, actually.” He paused, head tilting. “Actually, that’s all she’s really wanted to talk about since she came back. She keeps asking if you’re happy.”

There was no air in the room. Where had all the air gone? “What did you say?”

He shrugged. “The truth.”

“So you told her I was… sad?”

He looked her in the eye when he answered. “No, Mom. I told her you were miserable.”

And with that, he turned and went to his room, leaving Regina standing at the foot of the stairs, mouth once again hanging open.


	11. I'll still be standing here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back! And having the exact problem I didn't want to have: the weekend was so amazing, so Swan Queen-filled, I'm struggling with writing decent angst.  
> Still, out of all the problems to have, that's the kind of problem I LOVE to have, because wow, Fairytales was meant to be an ouat convention, and it ended up being more of a meeting for Swen from all around the world, and it was beautiful. In case you missed it, I put up on YT the video of the crowd chanting Swan Queen to the cast during the closing of the con, and some other beautiful person put up one of Lana leaving with the Swan Queen helmet, followed by her actually saying 'Swan Queen'. So, yes, a good weekend, and I'm still riding the high ;)  
> But without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter; this fic is nearly done, which is quite sda, since I've loved writing it, but I'll be happy to end the angst lol.

_Cause I’ll still be standing here_

_And you coming back to me_

_Is against all odds, it’s a chance I’ve gotta take_

She didn’t sleep much that night. It was reminiscent of the first weeks after Emma had disappeared, except Henry was back to sleeping in his own room.

She didn’t have company when she cried now, because her son — _their son_ — had seen Emma, had spoken to her; he knew she was alright and in one piece. And even though Regina knew this intellectually, a part of her still felt the need to have tangible proof, to see the blonde for herself, and touch her to make sure she was real, before she could completely dispel her fears.

And now Henry had told Emma that she missed her.

That had been, essentially, what the boy had said. _I told her you were miserable_. The implied notion behind that being that she was miserable because Emma wasn’t around anymore.

And she couldn’t find it in herself to be cross with Henry, not when there was a chance his words might prompt Emma to pay her a visit (and that possibility was the only reason why she stayed up all night, she told herself throughout the night, as she fought back tears. Not because Emma had been back for a week and still not come to see her, even though she was supposedly staying in her house, and that thought _hurt_ more than she was willing to admit; it felt as if she was being used, as though the blonde saw her as only an easy commodity, and nothing else. It had nothing to do with that whatsoever). And also because he was right, she was miserable, and she did miss Emma, more than she’d ever admit.

By the time she fell asleep, around five in the morning, exhausted from all the not-crying and the excitement and hope she told herself she was not feeling, the sun was coming up. As the brunette’s eyelids fluttered closed, and she sighed the blonde’s name, a cloud of dark blue smoke appeared at the foot of the bed, and the blonde looked at Regina fondly. She pulled the sheets up to cover the other woman, gently tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, careful not to wake the Mayor.

Emma smiled at Regina and disappeared in another cloud of blue smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mean? Maybe. I'm sorry this is so incredibly short, I promise a longer, juicier chapter next. And for the next - and last! - chapter, we're moving from Regina's POV to Emma's. I should have it up by tonight, if no other FT3 videos pop up and make me cry again :p


	12. Take a look at me now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry! It took me much longer than expected to get this done!   
> Like I said, this starts out with Emma's POV, but switches between them throughout the chapter. For any of you looking for it, there's a little #swantown easter egg in here ;)

_Take a look at me now…_

She had been avoiding this all week, but really, she knew it was time to suck it up. Avoiding her wasn’t going to actually do anyone any good. It might keep her dignity intact, but it would also mean hurting her best friend, and Emma Swan was not prepared to do that any longer.

So that Saturday, she dragged her feet as she shuffled from Granny’s to the Town Hall. She wasn’t sure Regina would be there, but knowing the other woman and how she operated when under stress (by taking her mind off everything through work or spending the day with Henry, and she knew their son was at a birthday party all day), she figured it was a pretty good bet that she’d find the Mayor holed up in her office, making sure the town was running smoothly — not that it would ever dare to do otherwise, Emma mused, fully aware that she was stalling.

The town might have accepted that Regina was reformed, but that didn’t mean people were any less scared of the brunette; they were well aware that she liked her town to be run in a specific way, and a grumpy Regina was not something any of the residents liked, so everyone fell in line and did what they needed to do. Emma had always been impressed by the amount of time and dedication Regina poured into the town; if the place hand’t been inanimate, she might’ve been jealous of all the attention the brunette gave to it.

It always made her wonder if she’d been such a dedicated queen as well, and if so, how she could have possibly been so callously uncaring toward the lives of her peasants. Sometimes the woman just didn’t add up in her mind, but she knew that wasting time pondering on what had been would do her no good, especially not with the conversation she was about to have.

Sighing, she stepped into the town hall building, mentally preparing herself for the lecture she was bound to receive.

* * *

 

From her office in the town hall, Regina heard footsteps approaching and frowned. Her secretary never came into work on Saturdays — apparently she actually did have a life that didn’t involve work and the fickle attentions of a teenage boy — and no one else really knew that she liked to work during the weekends, especially when she was stressed. So she kept her eyes trained on the door, trying to ascertain whether she should prepare a fire ball or not.

Blonde hair, blurred by the misty glass of her office door, was recognisable a few minutes later, and the glass table to her left broke and fell to the floor in a (thankfully contained) explosion of glass, tinkling as it fell.

* * *

 

She heard the glass fall, and ran the last few steps, throwing the office door open and looking around, trying to ascertain where the danger was. Instead, she found a stunned Regina sitting behind her desk, eyes glued to her in disbelief, and the long glass table lying shattered on the floor, apples rolling across the floor from where they’d fallen out of the bowl on the table.

“Regina, are you okay?”

“Emma?”

The blonde stopped looking around at the mess that was the office, finally focusing solely on the other woman. She hesitated, her previous nervousness coming back to her. So she smiled at the Mayor sheepishly.

“Hi.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile from appearing. She rushed around her desk, all but running towards Emma. The blonde was just standing in the middle of the office, looking uncomfortable, and Regina flung herself at the other woman, apparently unaware of the hesitation Emma was feeling.

Regina ran her hands down Emma’s arms and over her back, feeling the tangible proof that she was in one piece, before letting go of her and stepping back. Emma’s hands had come to rest on the brunette’s waist, and now fell off as she looked nervously at the woman in front of her.

“Where have you been? Why didn’t you…? I mean. Henry said…”

“Regina, I’m sorry,” Emma spoke up, stopping the uncharacteristic rambling that was coming from the other woman.

“What are you sorry for?”

At least she sounded like herself again, Emma thought, mouth curling up into a grin. She could feel her nerves slipping away the longer she looked at Regina, so she moved to the couches in the room, sitting down and patting the cushion next to her. Regina followed her, never taking her eyes off Emma, as if afraid she’d disappear if she looked away.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to do this.”

Regina just looked at her, head cocked to one side, an unasked question in her eyes.

“I should’ve come to see you first thing. Actually, I did go see you first.” The brunette opened her mouth, but Emma shook her head. “You must have known. I mean, how else would my jacket have just appeared in your house?”

Regina shrugged, studying her nails very closely, unwilling to look up at the blonde and let her see what she was feeling. “I’m not sure. I knew what I hoped, but no one had seen you…”

“No,” Emma agreed. “I wasn’t ready, not then. But I wanted to give you something to remember me by.” She shrugged. “And then I hid in the forest until I was sure I had a handle on myself and on the darkness. Most of the time it’s not so bad. It’s like having one of those little cartoon devils sitting on your shoulder, whispering stuff. But then I guess my Saviour-ness is like the little angel on the opposite shoulder, so generally I just have to figure out who to ignore the devil and focus on the angel.”

Regina was laughing at her. “That’s a terrible analogy, dear.”

“Yeah, I know. Still, that is basically what it’s like. Sometimes the devil is shouting, and it can get hard to not do what he says, but for the most part, I’m okay.”

“Yes, Henry said you were looking more like yourself lately.”

She smiled. “He’s a smart kid.”

“Yes, he is.”

They were silent for a while, before Regina took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you come to visit, after…”

Emma sighed. “I was scared, Regina.”

“You know I’d never let anything bad happen to Henry.”

“No, not about that. I was scared of you.” Regina frowned, and Emma hastily tried to correct herself. “No! Not of _you_ , you, just… us.”

“I'm afraid you’ve lost me, dear,” Regina told the blonde lightly, but she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, with hope that maybe, just maybe things weren’t quite a bleak as she’d feared.

“Regina,” Emma sighed again. “Come on, you must have figured it out. I was too scared to face you, but I wanted to be around you so much, and once I found out Robin Hood had moved out, I had to _keep_ him out, so I told Hook I had moved in with you — sorry about not checking with you first, by the way, I just panicked. And I guess I could try to pass it off as the darkness making me selfish, but that’s not it at all, I just really don’t like that guy, and I just really, really like you, so it all became a bit messed up, especially because, well, I’m the Dark One, and that’s bound to be a problem at some point, so…”

“You like me?” Regina interrupted, not having taken anything else in after that statement.

“Well… yeah. I did sacrifice myself for you, Regina. I thought you’d know for sure, and wouldn’t want to see me, so I kept away.”

Regina smiled at her, a smile that made the breath catch in Emma’s throat, and her words trail off.

“Oh, you idiot,” she growled playfully, pulling the blonde in for a kiss. “Next time, just ask me.”

Emma rested her forehead on Regina's closing her eyes as she pressed a kiss to the brunette's nose. "Whatever you say, Your Majesty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so that's that. Thanks for sticking with me, and thank you so, so much for all the comments, you guys gave me endless motivation to just keep writing.  
> In a couple of weeks we'll get our first Dark!Emma footage at SDCC, so maybe I can get to work on the video then.


End file.
